


First Day On the Job

by Castlewood_Bard



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: AU, Challenge Response, Cute, Episode: s01e02 Four Marks, First Meetings, Flirting, Geraskier, M/M, Meet-Cute, Swords, townspeople - Freeform, village
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castlewood_Bard/pseuds/Castlewood_Bard
Summary: Jaskier convinces Geralt to let him tag along.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	First Day On the Job

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this one

The bard sauntered up easily. Leaning against a pillar, he said the cheesiest line Geralt had ever heard. “I love the way you just… sit in the corner and brood.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood today. His last contract had left him tired and sore. “I’m here to drink alone.”

But the bard was unperturbed. Geralt glanced at him and noticed stark blue eyes staring at him. They made something in the Witcher’s stomach squirm. 

“...Three words or less.” the bard pleaded. 

Geralt’s insides shifted again as the bard took a seat across from him. “They don’t exist.” was all that came to mind. He hadn’t been paying that much attention, really. Just the odd snippet of incorrect rhymes. 

Then recognition flashed in the man’s eyes, “You’re the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia.”

Geralt flinched. Here it came. The disgust, the distrust, the fear. But then... it didn’t.

The bard continued to follow Geralt as the Witcher moved around the inn. He had to escape the bard. He had to. Danger would follow if he didn’t. But destiny didn’t give him the chance. A villager stood up and asked him to get rid of a devil. Geralt’s coin was lower than usual, and he couldn’t turn it down. Unfortunately, the pause gave the bard time to grab his lute and trail behind.

“Let me come with you.”

“What?” Geralt growled as the musical voice floated behind him. 

“I need my big break. A Witcher has a million tales that could become world famous.”

“I don’t need fame.”

“Who does?” The bard scoffed. “But it helps the purse. Tell me, do you hunt local folktales in every backwater town you visit.” 

Geralt whirled around. “ _Don’t test me, Bard_.”

The man’s eyes grew wide, but so did his smile. “I’ve got you now, Geralt of Rivia. Let me come.”

“No.” Geralt faced forward and kept walking, hurrying to Roach.

“A duel then.” The bard had stopped in the middle of the road, putting a small distance between himself and the Witcher.

Geralt had to laugh. “What?”

“A duel. If I win, I can come with you. If not, well, the innkeeper will have a nice stain in front of his establishment.” the man explained, grinning the whole time. 

Geralt raised an eyebrow and assessed the man in front of him. He would be dead with one swing of Geralt’s sword. But Geralt could rein in his strength, knock him down, and be on his way. That was the safest option. He couldn’t allow the bard to stay. Something had pulled him too close already.

“Fine.”

The bard beamed. “I’m Jaskier, by the way. A man should know the name of his opponent.”

Geralt scanned the bard once again. “And what are you going to fight me with, _Jaskier_?”

“Ah, um actually, I was hoping I could borrow one of your swords.” Jaskier reddened.

The guts of this man! The Witcher had to give him credit. “Hmm.” Geralt unsheathed one and handed it over.

“Thank you!” That smile again.

“Get in position.” Geralt sighed. 

Jaskier hefted the sword and shuffled his feet, looking like the battle was between him and the metal, the Witcher a simple bystander. 

Once he was situated, Geralt surged forward. He wanted to get this over as quickly as possible. Daylight was waning. His arms yearned to swing full strength, but he held back. It was going to be an easy fight.

Then Jaskier’s blade flashed and caught Geralt’s square on. The bard hadn’t even flinched.

A smile played across his face. “I forgot to tell you. I trained with a sword for 15 years at my academy. I got top marks in every single class. They offered 37.”

He thrust his sword forward, catching Geralt off guard. His footing was nimble and filled with a grace Geralt hadn’t seen for a long time. Geralt parried and responded with a swipe at Jaskier’s shin, safe enough spot, if hit lightly. The bard dodged with ease. They continued to dance around each other, and a crowd formed. Some cheered the Witcher while others shouted for the bard. A smile tugged at Geralt’s lips several times, but he squashed it, putting more force into each blow. He hadn’t had this much fun with an opponent in half a century. Jaskier lasted far longer than expected, but Geralt was still stronger. Eventually, he pinned the bard against a stable pillar. The tip of his sword gleamed against Jaskier’s pale skin. Blue eyes glanced at the blade, and only now did Geralt catch a whiff of emotion. No fear, though, just simple human nerves. As if Jaskier were next for a big speech.

“Well. You won. Go on.” Jaskier’s voice never wavered and that twist in Geralt’s stomach tightened in the most pleasant way. 

“So I did.” Geralt hummed.

Jaskier shut his eyes, tiny beads of sweat forming on his brow. He had to hand it to the musician. The man knew how to contain his emotions. Geralt withdrew his sword and sheathed it in one swift motion. 

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered open. “Oh.” His shoulders sagged slightly. Relief. Interesting. He’d been so ready a moment ago. The Witcher made a mental note of it, then promptly tried to forget he had even noticed. 

Geralt shrugged and pushed past the people who had gathered. "Just because you say it's to the death doesn't mean it has to be."

Jaskier stuttered, but Geralt didn't wait for any words.

He was buckling the final strap of Roach’s saddle when the melodic voice returned. “Thank you.”

Geralt turned in disbelief. Standing before him was the bard, holding out the sword.

He eyed the man once again, taking in the strong shoulders he'd overlooked earlier. “You should keep it. Someone with your skills shouldn’t let them go to waste.”

Jaskier blushed again. “No. You need it. I’ve heard enough stories about your craft. You need it.”

Geralt shrugged and took the sword. Jaskier turned but stopped. “Geralt-” Words formed on his tongue, but didn’t seem to want to come out.

The sound of the Witcher’s name on Jaskier’s lips tightened the knot in his stomach. It was soft. Unlike anything he’d heard. He stared at the bard, waiting for him to continue.

“Please. Take me with you. I can’t just sit around anymore. I just- can’t.” Jaskier cast his eyes to the floor and Geralt realized something. He wanted to see those eyes for the rest of his life. He wanted those eyes to tear away every wall he had built up. He wanted _those eyes_ to look at him with the same want they held now. 

“You’ll have to walk. Roach won’t let you near her.”

Jaskier’s face lit up like an August dandelion. “Thank you. Oh thank you, Geralt. You won’t regret it. I swear.”

As they walked out of town, Jaskier’s voice already drifting merrily in Geralt’s ear, he believed a human for the first time in his life.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos always appreciated :)


End file.
